


Burn

by meningitisyee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Dark Past, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Reader-Insert, Sexual Abuse, no y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meningitisyee/pseuds/meningitisyee
Summary: You can barely remember the time before you were a slave. You had lived a peaceful life on your snowy homeworld. But that all changed. You lost everything. You couldn't have been more than five years old when you were sold to your first master. For thirty years, you bounced from planet to planet, master to master, expecting that this is the way that your life will end.Now, you find yourself on a dustball of a planet, looking after a strange, green child. Just when you have settled into your desert home, your world is turned upside down once again, and you find yourself face to face with the demons that haunt your past.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	1. Sand

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! I haven't posted on here in a while, and after reading a lot of the Mandalorian fics, I just had to hop on the trend. I hope you enjoy this, and there will be more chapters to come. :)

You were out of your element.

You ran a hand through your hair, it was sweaty and oily. You wipe your forehead of the sweat that had accumulated, only for it to be replaced by the sand that coated every surface around you.

Gods, there was nothing you hated more than the sand. Of all of the places in the galaxy, of course, you had to end up on this godforsaken dust ball.

Arvala-7. Your latest residence, and prison.

You sighed deeply and glanced down at the child who played at your feet. The green, little monster was making a pile of sand and then destroying it with his tiny, three-fingered, hands.

You sighed. Your thin tank top and cargo pants did little to stifle the intense heat of midday, and you decided it was time to head in. You scooped up the little bugger, and he cried in protest as you lifted him off of the ground.

“Sorry little guy, it’s getting too hot out here for me. I promise we can come out and play in the evening when it is cooler.” You said soothingly.

The baby cooed, seeming to understand you, and settled into your arms. You hummed to him as you walked back to the compound.

The little guy perched in your arms was rather a mystery to you. He was unlike any species you had ever seen. He was obviously sentient, for despite his youth he was very intelligent. He had wrinkled green skin, large brown eyes, and ears that were disproportionately too large for his little body. You always wondered how he was so unbothered by the heat and sand, you had been born on a cold, snowy, planet, and spent the first five or so years of your life there.

You entered the courtyard of the compound. The Niktos sanding guard perked up and watched you walk through the courtyard, and through the heavy double doors of your lodging. The Niktos were not the talkative type, and their silent gazes burned holes right through you. There were a few other species that stood guard on the compound, but you couldn’t remember what they were called. Your captors were by no means hospitable, but this was comparatively one of the better situations you had been in.

You closed the heavy doors behind you, and by this time, the child had dozed off in your arms. You decide to not to wake him up, and you put him in his floating pram. You take a right in the main entryway and turn into your small room. It not much, just a small bed, a kitchen, a table with two stools, and a small rug for the kid to play on. A bathroom attached to your room, and you were glad that you didn’t have to share with the Niktos.

With the child asleep in his pram, you had a little while to yourself. You stripped of the sandy, sweaty clothes and got in the sonic shower. You had only been here for about six months, but you would kill to feel water run through your hair again. The sonic shower did its job well enough, but nothing beats the real thing. Now clean, you stepped out and put a pair of light sweatpants on along with a cropped t-shirt.

You made yourself a cup of tea and ate a ration pack. Both were bland as anything, but it beat going hungry. There really wasn’t much else to eat. You looked down at the child’s rug, where his three toys lay strewn about. All three were handmade dolls that you had sewn out of old clothes and blankets. One was vaguely humanoid-shaped, with two arms, two legs, and a round head. It was rough going in this department, you hadn’t much to work with. The second doll was shaped like the kid, with a round body, a smaller round head, and two giant ears. You had even sacrificed two of your own buttons from an old shirt to give the doll eyes. The third and final toy was a bantha, with a round body and 4 short legs. You had to get creative to get the creature’s spiraling horns to look just right.

As the evening comes, the child wakes up. He coos up at you, and you immediately recognize that as the “I’m hungry” sound. You fix him a ration and even heat up some broth for him. He eats quickly, obviously remembering your promise from earlier. Even though the baby was a nightmare at times, you still felt a strong bond with him, and you cared deeply for him. The sun was halfway tucked beyond the horizon, and brilliant pinks and violets swirled in the sky along with the dwindling yellows and oranges. You set the child down in the sand and sit on your usual rock. He rolls around and makes happy little noises as he enjoys his time in the dunes. If he didn’t need a bath before, he really does now.

The moons came up and cast their signature white light onto the sand. You leaned back and looked out across the endless sand. With the light shining on it like this, it almost reminded you of home. Albeit, your home was a little bit more mountainous, had a lot more vegetation, and was a lot colder, this view struck a bittersweet chord in your heart. 

You hadn’t set foot on your home planet since you were five years old. Since you lost everything.

Now, some thirty or so years later, you find yourself on a planet that is the complete opposite of your homeworld, with a green alien child you must care for.

Even though you gauged yourself to be in your mid-thirties, aging had been kind to you. When you saw yourself in the mirror, you looked like a woman in her mid-twenties. You remember your mother being like this too. You were her youngest child and only daughter. Even as she approached forty, you never forgot her youthful appearance, she never looked a day over twenty-five.

You spend close to an hour watching the white dunes of sand. The child eventually tires out, and you pick him up and bring him back to the compound. The desert gets cold at night, and the temperature was already dropping. You closed the door to your room and turned on the electric heater. The kid fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, and you were left alone with your thoughts.

You hated it when the kid fell asleep, because then you were truly alone. Now don’t fool yourself, the kid was no conversationalist, but at least there was something there to distract you from your past. 

Thirty years…

Had you really been enslaved for that long?

Sun peaked through the window of your room.

You awoke and yawned. You look beside you and see that your brothers were still asleep. You snuck out of the room, taking care not to wake anyone, knowing that if you did you would probably have a few pillows chucked at you. Typical things when you grow up with three older brothers.

You had thick wool socks on, and a nightgown that went all the way to your ankles. You made your way out to the kitchen. The village was quiet. From the kitchen window, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon, glistening on the freshly fallen snow.

Your mother was up too, adorning an outfit almost the exact same as you, albeit much bigger. Mom was looking out the window too, the early morning light illuminating her soft features. She turned to face you, the sun hitting her profile and making her eyes an electric blue. She had long, dark hair which was straights around the roots, but progressed into loose waves that ended half-way down her back. She was a short woman, granted everyone in your village was rather short for humans. The men did stand slightly taller, but you always remember mom being short in comparison to everyone. You, her youngest, were already standing even with her stomach at five years old. Her youngest son was already an inch taller than her, and he was only nine, if you remember correctly.

Mom was boiling a pot of water on the stove.

You smiled, “Good mornin’, mama.”

She turned to face you, giving you her sweetest smile, “Good morning sweet girl.”

Despite being a short and altogether small woman, she was strong. She bent down and picked you up like you were nothing. She had you on her hip and situated you so that you had a good view out of the window. You saw your father coming up the hill, breakfast, lunch, and dinner in hand. His traps had yielded two bird-like creatures. You had long since forgotten what they were called.

He came through the door and smiled at his wife and his daughter.

“Mornin’ papa,” you said.

“Good morning, princess.” He said as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. His beard tickled your face, and you giggled. 

Dad stood about eight inches taller than your mother. He was rather tall, one of the tallest in your village in fact. He set about preparing the birds to be cooked, and mom poured you a cup of your favorite tea, and added sugar to it, just how you liked. You sat at the table and sipped your tea, and mom made you some porridge to have for breakfast. 

By now your brothers had piled out of bed, coming out to the kitchen in search of breakfast. Your oldest brother stood at your father’s height, and your second oldest brother stood a few inches shorter than him. 

Everyone sat down for breakfast, and you finished first. You excused yourself to go get ready for the day’s work. Your chores were simple enough. You slipped out of your nightgown and into your robes and slid your coat on over them. You stuffed your small feet into your boots, noting how they were getting a little small, and made a mental note to tell mom that. You trudged outside looking at all of the freshly fallen snow. You started to make your way over to the small greenhouse, where your family’s garden was. Halfway there, you impulsively dropped down in the snow and made the biggest snow angel that your small body could. You stood up, satisfied with your creation, and entered the greenhouse.

The greenhouse smelled earthy and of fresh herbs. You loved the scent. You set to work pulling any weeds that had sprung up and put them in a compost bucket. It was warm in the greenhouse, the covering was specially made to magnify the rays of the sun that shined on it, making the inside of the greenhouse pleasant. You took your coat off and draped it on the stool of the small workbench within the greenhouse. It took you almost an hour to weed all of the beds, but you didn’t mind. You hummed a song that your mother would always sing to you as you worked. You stood up and looked at the beds, and you were proud of your work.

The door to the greenhouse creaked open, and your eldest brother poked his head in, being careful not to let any heat escape.

He called your name.

“What is it, Olin?” You ask.

Olin… that was his name, you tried hard to remember your other brothers’ names, but couldn’t.  
“Follow me, I have something to show you.” He said, motioning for you to follow him.

“No, you’re just gonna shove me in a snowbank again.” You responded and turned away from him to resume your chores.

“I promise, it’s gonna be fun.” He said, smiling. 

He had dad’s brown eyes, well he had dad’s everything, to be honest. Everyone said he was the spitting image of your father from his younger days.

You relented and put on your coat to follow him. He took you around to his shed and showed you a roughly built sled that he had configured.

“Come on shorty, last one to the top is a rotten mudhorn egg” He chided.

You giggle and ran out of the shed, heading towards the top of the hill in the pasture. Olin grabbed the sled and was out right after you. He was hot on your heels, and your short, little kid legs had a hard time keeping up. Halfway up the hill, he squatted down, and you hopped on his back so he could carry you the rest of the way.

At the top, you could see the whole village. Everyone was waking and beginning the labors for the day.

Olin placed the sled down and sat at the back. He patted the space in front of him, and you settled down. He put his legs on either side of you, and you leaned back against his chest.

“Hold on!” He yells over his shoulder, as he uses his arms to push the sled forward and down the hill.

The sled picked up speed and you were flying down the hill. You were giggling, and you could hear your brother’s laugh behind you.

You must have his a stray rock at some point because the next thing you knew you were five feet in the air, and you hit the ground with a thud. The snow broke most of your fall, but it did knock the wind out of you a little bit.

You giggled as you stood up and brushed the snow off of your coat. The smell of smoke filled your nose, and you coughed as you looked around for Olin

You spotted him a few feet away, he was lying face down in the snow.

You called out to him, but you were met with silence.

“Come on Olin, this isn’t funny. Get up!” You called out. 

Still nothing. You trudged over to him. It took all of the strength your five-year-old body could muster to roll Olin onto his back. As you were doing this, the smoke became thicker, almost unbearable. You coughed as you finally got your brother onto his back.

And you screamed.

Where your brother’s face once was, there was a burned mangled mess. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, and you backed away from your brother’s mangled body. His body burst into flames, and the smell of burning flesh filled your nose. 

Gods, you would never forget that smell. 

Fire seemed to engulf everything around you, and the smoke was starting to choke you. The flames were closing in, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

Your vision went blurry and you fell into the snow.

Everything went black.

You awoke with a start, flying upright and almost slamming your head into the low ceiling above your cot. You were breathing heavily, and you looked over to the child pram. He was still fast asleep, but somehow he was holding his little stuffed bantha. Had you given it to him before you went to sleep? No, you remember it being on the rug with the others. 

You brush it off, this was not the first time something like this had happened.

You gained control of your breathing, and you stood on wobbly legs. You walked to the kitchen sink and turned it on, splashing water on your face. Yeah, it was a precious resource, but you had to get yourself to calm down. A thin sheen of sweat covered your body, probably from the nightmare.

This was rather tame, compared to the rest of your nightmares that is. The image of your brother’s disfigured face was branded into your mind, and you just couldn’t shake it. This is why you hated being alone. When you were alone, you thought about your past, and when you thought of your past, you had the most horrible and vivid nightmares. It was an endless cycle.

You debated waking the kid up, but decided against it. The little guy needed his sleep.

For now, you retreated back to your cot, and fell into an empty, dreamless, sleep.


	2. Sweet Nothingness

Sun streamed through the window in your room. 

For a second, you thought you were back in your nightmare from earlier, but when the dry, oppressive air hit your nose, you were brought back into the here and now.

In a way, you still were in your nightmare, but you pushed those thoughts aside.

The child was awake, sitting in his pram and gnawing on one of the legs of his bantha doll.

You rolled out of bed and picked the child up. He cooed, and you brought him to the table. You fixed him some broth and a ration pack, then sat yourself down with just some tea for now.

The child was different today, he looked nervous even.

"What's on your mind, little guy?" You ask him gently.

You half expect an answer, but you're reminded of your charge's youth when he only offers you a slightly distressed coo.

His ears are drooped down, and his eyes are big and worried. You scoop him up and rock him back and forth in your arms. He burrows into your chest and arms, and suddenly fear washes over you.

But you aren't scared? You don't know how to explain it. It was like feeling emotions in your head while knowing for a fact they weren't your own.

You brush it off, attributing it to the lingering effects of your nightmare, or just lack of sleep in general.

You were exhausted. You have always had trouble sleeping, but coupled with the dehydration and malnutrition, you found yourself even more tired than you ever were in your earlier years as a slave. You always made sure the baby had three meals a day, and snacks whenever he got hungry, even if that meant you could only eat once or twice a day. The food provided by the Niktos was enough to survive off of, but far from enough to live comfortably.

After eating, and throwing his toys around on the rug, the baby had tuckered himself out. You laid him in his pram, and would wake him in an hour or so to eat lunch. You began to tidy up your room from the kid's playtime when you hear a commotion outside. You hear a voice... but it isn't the Niktos...

A droid? you would recognize the automated voice of a droid anywhere. You couldn't make out exactly what it was saying, but before you could attempt to get closer, all hell broke loose. Blaster fire rang in your ears and you could hear yelling from all around. You immediately ran to the pram, and the baby had just begun to rouse, a worried look on his face.

He looked as if he was about to start crying, so you scooped him up and hushed him before he could give away your position. There was so much fighting going on outside, and in the madness, you realized that your roof had begun to crack. You grabbed the little guy's pram and rushed out of your room before the whole roof caved in. You were breathing heavily, the child held tight to your chest. You were in the main area now. There were storage crates and boxes everywhere. There was silence outside and cautiously you made your way to the large doors that faced the courtyard.

Then you heard the sound of a weapon charging. And it sounded like a big weapon.

Before you had the chance to run away the door was blasted open, you were thrown back by the blast, and your head connected with the back wall.

Everything was a blur. Every sound felt muffled and your vision was a mix of blurred shapes and black dots. You recognized the green blob in your arms as the child. You had instinctively tucked him to your chest and turned yourself so that your head and your back would take the brunt of the impact. The child was moving, letting you know that he was unscathed.

You used your feet to scoot yourself along the ground to hide behind a stack of crates. You looked around, trying to gain a sense of where you were in the main room, but that was very difficult with the persistent ringing in your ears and blurred vision. You heard shuffling to your left, quickly followed by a shot. You heard a voice mutter something, but you couldn't make it out.

Then beeping, getting faster and faster as the... two? Two sets of footsteps approached your hiding spot.

Two figures rounded the stack of crates you were behind. They both seemed to look down at you. All you could see was the rough shape of them. One was dark, tall, and towered over the other. It had a long head and geometric body. You surmise it to be the droid you heard. Maybe an assassin droid, you had seen plenty of those throughout your life. The other was shorter but broad. Just from the shape of him, you knew this was not someone you wanted on your bad side. You were fairly confident it was a man, judging by its height and build.

Then you realized the two were talking. The ringing in your ears made it impossible to understand what they were saying, but you could see the droid's arm begin to raise. You could only imagine how you looked right now. A small, malnourished woman, clutching a green alien child to her chest, probably covered in blood from her apparent head injury and dust. A pitiful sight.

You hear a shot ring out, and red flashes around your field of vision. You flinch and turn your body to shield the child. 

You hear a metallic clank and turn back to see the droid collapsed on the ground. You turn your attention from the droid to the broad man who stood above you. He remained still for a few moments, seeming to be looking at you, his head tilted slightly to the side. He then crouched down to your level. He reached out a hand for you and you freaked out. You couldn't see, you couldn't hear, and now this big scary man way trying to touch you.

This brought you back to the countless times you had been drugged before as a slave. Helpless to defend yourself against the blurry figures who closed in on you.

Whimpering, you scooted away from. All you could think was that you had to put as much distance between you and him as possible. You tried to stand, but you went lightheaded and crashed back down to the dirt.

Only then did the man seem to notice the child in your arms. 

Your head was still spinning from your attempt to stand, and the man lifts the child from your arms before you can protest. He begins to retreat, and you hear the child wail and cry out for you. You see the blurry shape of the man put your green blob into a floating, white blob. The pram.

The child is still wailing, the man stares at the blob, before turning back to you. He strides over to you and extends a hand towards you.

You tentatively reach out a shaky hand and grab his. His other hand goes to your forearm and he helps you to your feet. Your legs are shaking and your head starts to spin again.

Gods... this man is huge. You were not tall by any means to begin with, but standing next to him made you feel like a child again. From the blurry outlines your brain could process, you stood at his chest.

Your head was spinning faster, and you reached out a hand to steady yourself, and you were met with... metal? It was cool and smooth under your touch. Was this a droid too? No, he moved too naturally to be a droid.

You had been standing too long, everything started to fade and you began to lose consciousness. You could feel his hands snake around your waist and you were lifted off the ground and put over his shoulder.

Everything faded after that.

The Mandalorian sighed as he threw you over his shoulder. You weren't heavy at all, you were just one more thing he had to haul back to the Razor Crest. The kid had not stopped wailing since he was taken from your arms, and the Mandalorian was not in the mood for having a screaming baby for the whole trip back to Nevarro. When he had picked you up, the baby seemed satiated enough. You barely weighed anything, so it wouldn't be any skin off his back to bring you too.

As he collected his things to leave, he set you down on a crate. You had a nasty cut on the back of your head, and a large bump accompanying it. You seemed to be the child's caretaker, so the Mandalorian decided that it would be beneficial to take you. You could watch the kid while he took care of everything else. You weren't exactly much of a threat right now.

You were tiny. The Mandalorian mused how when you had stood up, you barely stood at the height of his chest. You were skinny as anything and covered with dirt and blood. He looked over you to see if there were any other injuries that needed addressing. When all he could find was the head injury, he removed a small vile of bacta from his belt and applied it to the laceration on the back of your head. He could tell you hit your head pretty hard. He had been speaking to you but you just stood there looking up at him with unfocused eyes. Your hearing and vision must be compromised right now.

He pairs the child's pram with his vambrace, and gently picks you up, and puts you over his shoulder. He then begins the long trek through the desert.

The Mandalorian stops in the middle of the canyon, he is not alone. He sets you down against the canyon wall and brings the pram to a halt. A group of Trandoshan hunters appeared. This job apparently wasn't getting any easier.

The Trandoshans turned out to be more of an inconvenience than anything for the Mandalorian. He only slipped up when one started to walk towards you and the child, and well, they were killed on spot.

The Mandalorian escaped with only a deep cut to his arm, which was pretty good compared to what happened to the other guys. He settled down for the night in the middle of the desert. He chose a slightly elevated rock formation. He set you down carefully a few feet away. He wasn't worried about a concussion, the bacta had taken care of the damage caused by the blast. He checked your vitals though. He slowly snaked one of his gloves off, and touched two fingers to the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your pulse was normal, same with your breathing. He observed the soft rising and falling of your chest. 

The Mandalorian expected you to be knocked out for a while, recovering from a head trauma was exhausting. Though, he did expect you to wake up in the near future.

Since the Mandalorian had used his vial of bacta on you, he was stuck with using his cauterizer on his arm. He sighed, anticipating the pain and the jagged scar it would leave, but he had done this before. Way too many times than he would ever care to admit.

The Mandalorian set to work, starting at the end of the cut closest to him, working across. Then he noticed that the child had walked over to him, he had his eyes closed and a small green hand outstretched towards him. The Mandalorian put the cauterizer down and placed the baby back into his pram. He situated himself once again on the ground, but took a break from his arm, and decided to work on his chest plate. He looked over and saw the child had made its way over to him again. He picked the child up and put him in his pram, but this time closed the lid.

His chest plate was done, so the Mandalorian refocused his attention to the cut on his arm.

Your sleep was restless. You had occasionally woken up, only to find yourself several feet off the ground. You knew the man was carrying you, but it still made you jump every time you awoke. 

You were never awake for long though, your head hurt like nothing you had ever imagined, and your vision was still blurred. On the bright side, if you could call it that, there were fewer black spots in your vision, you took that as a good sign. Your hearing had improved as well; there was no more ringing, but everything was still slightly muffled. Just as quickly as you would rouse from unconsciousness, the throbbing pain in your head would become too much, and you would black out again.

This time when you awoke, you were on the ground. Everything was a haze, and you weren't sure if you were even fully conscious yet. What snapped you out of the haze was the smell. 

A smell that was burnt into your mind. One you could never forget, no matter how hard you tried.

Burnt flesh.

You gagged.

You shot up, breathing heavy, the ringing returning your ears. You were panicking, the smell was overwhelming, and before you could help it, you were dry heaving. You weren't sure if you were grateful or not that you had skipped out on breakfast that morning.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you screamed, attempting to get up and evade the blurry figure you saw before you.

You were too weak, though. And before you had made it two steps, your legs gave out from under you. 

What you didn't expect was for two strong hands to catch you and pull you too their chest.

A cold wall of metal, that's what you remember.

Comforting as the gesture was, the smell of burnt flesh was even stronger in this man's arms.

It was too much, and sweet nothingness embraced you once again.

The Mandalorian had wanted you to drink some water when you woke up, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen.

You had shot up from your unconscious state, startling the warrior.

You had been gasping, and then attempted to throw up whatever you had eaten that day, which appeared to be nothing. The Mandalorian had come to you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

Your scream had taken the hardened warrior aback. You tried to move away, but the Mandalorian had seen your legs falter and caught you before you hit your head again.

The Mandalorian was admittedly clueless when it came to other's emotions. Usually, he had a short fuse for dealing with other people's issues. But this woman struck something deep within him. He didn't know if it was your absolute helplessness or the haunted look your face would produce whenever he had gotten too close too quickly. Maybe it was your screams. The screams the Mandalorian would normally hear were the screams of people who were scared that they might die.

But yours were different, they seemed to be the screams of someone who was scared that they might live.

The Mandalorian had done the only thing he could think of, pull you to his chest and hold on tight. It was what his mother used to do when he was scared.

Your screams ceased, and you fell unconscious again. The Mandalorian cradled you in his arms and brought you back towards the heat lamp. The desert gets cold at night, he knew this. He laid you down on the ground and noticed how you subconsciously curled in on yourself.

The Mandalorian removed his cape and laid it over your small form. It was tattered, but thick and warm. He sat back down across from you and let himself slip into a dreamless sleep.

You awoke with the sun. Your vision was still blurred, but the black spots were now completely gone. Your hearing was no longer muffled, and you heard the breeze brush over the sand.

You sat up, and felt something pool around your waist. From what you could see, it was a thick, dark fabric. You rubbed it between your fingers, wondering where it came from.

"You're awake." A voice called out.

You snapped your head in the direction that the voice came from and saw a dark shape seated on the ground. It was odd, his figure was dark, yet the sun strongly reflected off of him. Strange.

"You should drink something." He said. 

Yeah, definitely male. 

You opened your mouth to respond, and in that moment realized how dry your mouth and throat were. 

Instead of responding, you just nodded.

He stood up and handed a dark shape to you. You assumed it to be a canteen. You were right and touched the cool lip of the container to your dry lips. 

"Drink." He said.

You decide to drink about a third of the container for now so that the rest could be saved for the child.

The child.

"Wait, where's the-" You croaked out before you saw a green blob emerge.

He climbed into your lap and settled there. 

"Have you fed him?" You asked, immediately forgetting your empty stomach.

"Yes. Here." He said and extended his hand again.

You took the object from him, and judging by the texture and crinkly sound it made, you knew it to be a ration bar. You ate quickly, your hunger being reinvigorated by the first bite from the bland food.

"Can you walk?" The man asked.

"You mean I don't get to be carried the whole way this time?" You chided, trying to break some of the ice and get a feel for who this guy is.

You were met with silence. Not much of a talker, you suppose.

"Uh, I don't know." You said after a few very awkward moments.

He approaches you and offers both of his hands. You take them, feeling the rough leather gloves that covered his hands. He hauls you to your feet, gently might you add. You stumble, but your legs feel much stronger today. You take a step, still holding the man's arm, and you feel good. You let go, and your legs feel sturdy enough to walk.

He finishes packing up the small camp, and you depart wordlessly. You remain a few paces behind him, while the child floats by his side. 

An hour into your walk, your legs have become very sore. You were a lot shorter than your mysterious friend, so keeping pace with him was becoming all the more difficult. The sun wasn't even at its highest, so you knew that this trek would only get worse from here. You silently wished you had pretended to not be able to walk, so that this man would carry you like he had the day prior

You begin to slow noticeably.

Wordlessly, the man turns to you, and before you could protest, he puts you over his shoulder and continues the journey with ease, and at a noticeably quicker pace.


	3. The Mandalorian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW!! mentions/allusions to past physical/sexual trauma, read at your own discretion

You must have dozed off at some point. The Mandalorian had noticed the lack of fidgeting coming from you, and the way he felt your breathing even out.

Gods, you weighed practically nothing. The Mandalorian wondered how the Niktos had treated you. Had they starved you? He observed that you were small to begin with, but your current state just looked unhealthy. Malnourished.

But why did he care? You were technically just going to be another bounty. He was just going to hand you off to those Imps. And why the child? He is just a baby...

He shook the thoughts from his head. 

He was getting close to his ship. 

As he came closer to the ridge that overlooked where he had landed, he heard a commotion.

Not good. 

He broke into a jog and came to the ledge.

You awoke due to the sudden movement, and he put you down, leaning you against a rock.

Jawas. Fucking Jawas.

The Mandalorian cussed under his breath as he took aim at the Jawas with his pulse rifle.

You heard blaster fire coming from right beside you. You were sitting in the sand, leaning up against a rock. 

You saw the man laying on the ground, with what you assumed was a long rifle in hand. He was firing at something beyond your view. You only watched his form slightly shift to aim at different things.

Your vision was actually a lot clearer, but still foggy.

You saw the man get up, and slide over the edge of the ridge you were on, towards whatever he was firing at. The baby's pram followed after him.

You jumped to your feet to chase after the pram, but that sent your mind reeling. Everything started to spin and you slumped back down. You closed your eyes, willing the pounding in your head to go away.

You weren't sure if you only had your eyes closed for five minutes, or you actually fell unconscious again. But when you woke up, the sun was in a different position. You were alone, a few feet awak from the rock you had been leaning against. You stood, slowly this time, and looked around. Your vision had fully returned to you, and you waited for your eyes to adjust to the brightness.

You looked to where you had seen the man shooting earlier, and at the bottom of the ridge, you saw a ship.

The remnants of a ship, at least. It had been gutted, by Jawas you assumed.

Those little creatures had attempted to scavenge through your compound, but they were scared off when they realized there were more Niktos than they had originally thought. 

You slid down the edge of the ridge and stood at the bottom. The ship was large, larger than you thought it was, and it also appeared to be very old.

You approached and entered the ship. It was large on the inside too, with a main hull area, and a ladder that you assumed lead to the cockpit. You wondered where the man and the child were. You hoped the child was safe at least. 

This must be the man's ship. You exited down the ramp to see if the man was around, but he was nowhere to be seen.

You went back into the stripped ship, figuring that you should use it as a shelter for the night. There seemed to be no reliable power in the ship, so you rummaged around for blankets. You found two, but you knew that wouldn't be enough for the chill that set over Arvala-7 at night. You continued to rummage, and you actually managed to find a blaster that was hidden in a small compartment. It appeared to be functioning, so you doubly checked to make sure the safety was on, and you tucked it into the waistband of your sweatpants.

You looked down at yourself. You wore the same crop top and sweatpants that you had worn to bed, both were filthy, covered in sweat and dust. You then noticed, feeling quite embarrassed that you had no bra or chest wrap on. You never slept with one on, and the day that the compound was breached, you hadn't changed out of your sleepwear yet.

Embarrassing. The shirt wasn't too cropped, but it definitely showed some skin.

You decided to look for the man again, so you stepped down the ramp. 

You saw a figure in the distance and a little dot floating beside it.

This must be the man and the child.

They continued to come closer, and you were able to make out more details on them, especially the man, who before this you had no idea what he looked like. 

Then you notice it... a helmet... the t-shaped visor.

A Mandalorian.

Your throat closed up. You stood frozen in place as he continued to grow closer.

You snapped out of it and retreated back into the ship, shaking. 

Your hands shook violently as you ran your head through your hair. 

No, he couldn't be. 

You began to hear his footsteps, your breath caught in your throat.

A tear slipped down your cheek and wiped it away. Your efforts were in vain because more and more began to fall as you heard his heavy footsteps on the ramp.

You backed away from the ramp, towards the ladder. Drawing the blaster from your waistband, you aimed at the entryway with shaky hands, and flipped the safety off.

The Mandalorian appeared in the entryway and froze when his gaze landed on you. You didn't miss the way his hand casually slid to his holster.

"Stay back." You said, trembling. Your voice sounded weak, panicked, so small and afraid that you barely recognized it.

The Mandalorian said nothing and took a cautious step forwards.

"Stay back! I mean it!" You yelled, hoping to get him to leave you alone.

Your hands shook as you kept the blaster trained on his chest. Not that it would do any good, anyways. For one, you had never even fired a blaster before, and two, you knew that armor was impenetrable.

"Put the gun down." His voice was calm, and steady, everything that yours wasn't.

You were a mess, and you knew you didn't look threatening at all. Your small, shaking form, huddled in a corner with trembling hands holding a blaster, tears slipping down your cheeks, eyes wide and panicked. 

But there was one thing that was to your advantage, you are like a cornered animal, you are unpredictable at this moment. And the Mandalorian knows this, judging by his hesitance to approach you.

"No." You said, mustering up the most confident tone than you could, but even you couldn't ignore the way your voice slightly shook.

"Put it down, now." He stepped closer, and you shrunk further into your corner.

There was nowhere left to run, you were trapped. You had to make a decision, and you had to make it now.

You took a bold step forward, out of your corner, "Back the fuck up or I swear to god I will kill you." You spit. 

The Mandalorian was still, but then moved faster than you thought he could. He grabbed your wrist that was holding the blaster and pushed it away from his center mass. His other hand grabbed your upper arm, and he slammed you into the wall of the hull. His hand squeezed your wrist so tightly that you dropped the blaster to the floor. He kicked it to the other side of the hull, not that you could have escaped his hold anyways.

His other hand moved up to your other wrist, and he pinned both of your arms above your head. He towered over you, you shrunk back, pressing yourself tightly to the wall, you wanted to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

You were afraid, more so than you had been ever before in your life. If he hadn't planned on killing you before, you were as good as dead now with the stunt you just pulled. You expected him to drag you out into the sand, throw you to the ground and put a bullet in your head. 

But he didn't do anything, he lingered in front of you, deciding what to do you assumed. If he wasn't going to kill you, you figured he had other ideas, ideas that were worse than death.

You started shaking even more if that was possible, looking up into the blank, emotionless helmet.

"Please..." You start, breathless, "Don't hurt me, I won't do that again I promise. Please..." You trail off, "Please... just don't touch me..." Your voice was tiny, filled with fear.

The Mandalorian noticeably stiffened at that. You flinched and averted your gaze to the floor.

"I'm not going to hurt you..." He stated.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor. He shifted both of your tiny wrists into the grasp of one of his huge hands, and reached his other hand behind him, and it reappeared with a set of binders.

"But I can't risk you doing that again." He said as he cuffed one of your hands.

He slowly guided you to the ladder, and he gestured for you to sit. 

When you were on the floor, he reached his other hand around and looped the cuffs around one of the rungs of the ladder. He cuffed your other hand to it, securing you to it.

He began to inspect his gutted ship. He sighed, and climbed the ladder to the cockpit. You could hear him firing the engines, trying to gauge the extent of the damage.

He descended the ladder and landed with a thud. You flinched at the sound, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

The Mandalorian squatted down next to you, you peered up at him, silently waiting for him to speak. He undid one of the cuffs, and unlooped them from the ladder, he immediately replaced the cuff to your wrist, though. He grabbed your forearms, and the fear began to amount within you.

He gently got you to your feet, and offered you a canteen. You looked at it for a minute and then nodded. You were still petrified of the man before you, but you knew it wouldn't be wise to deny him.

He unscrewed the cap and lifted it to your lips. Shakily, you took a few sips. The water felt so good against your dry throat, and you wanted to drink more, but you were very aware of how exposed your neck was in this position, so you cut yourself off. The Mandalorian put the cap back on and returned it to his belt.

He gestured for you to leave the ship, and you walked in front of him. You had lost the privilege of walking behind him now that you established yourself as a possible threat. You felt his eyes on you the whole time you walked through the desert. The sun had begun to set, and it was almost completely dark outside before a small settlement came into view.

The baby had seemingly fallen asleep in his pram, so your journey had gone without much entertainment. As you neared the compound you saw a male Ugnaught standing on a moisture collector, seeming to be doing repairs.

"I thought you were dead." The Ugnaught deadpanned. He turned around to face the three of you. 

The child had woken up, and the Mandalorian put him on the ground to get some energy out. 

He climbed down and returned his tools to a workbench. He wiped off his gloves on a rag as he looked at the child. He was chasing some frog-like species. You had seen them before at the compound, and you knew that the kid loved to eat them.

"This is what was causing all the fuss?" The Ugnaught asked, gesturing to the child.

"I think it's a child." The Mandalorian responded while fiddling with his vambrace.

'No shit.' You think to yourself.

"It is better to deliver it alive then." The Ugnaught said.

The Mandalorian and the Ugnaught discussed the current predicament with the Jawas. The Ugnaught explained that the Mandalorian could trade for the parts of his ship. He seemed annoyed at that.

You didn't pay attention to much of the conversation, you just stood back and tried to be as small as possible. You were still afraid of the Mandalorian, but you felt other emotions rising within you. 

Anger.

Hate.

You feared the Mandalorian with your entire being, but you also hated him just as much.

Hated him for, well not necessarily what he had done, but for what his kind had done. For what they had taken from you.

Then the Ugnaught turned his attention to you.

Shit.

"And who is this one?" He inquired, gesturing to where you stood. You hesitantly met his gaze.

"She is the child's caretaker." The Mandalorian responded, not even sparing you a glance.

"Then why is she in binders?" The Ugnaught asked, obviously unhappy with the Mandalorian's treatment of you.

"She pulled a gun on me." He stated.

The Ugnaught continued his disapproving stare at the Mandalorian.

"Does she have a weapon on her now?" The Ugnaught questioned, obviously trying to prove a point.

"No." The Mandalorian said flatly.

"Then remove her binds, unless you think that such a small creature could overpower you, a Mandalorian." The Ugnaught said, finality in his voice.

You almost took offense to what the Ugnaught had said, but he was right. Even with a blaster, you didn't stand a chance against the Mandalorian. 

"I have spoken." The Ugnaught said before walking away.

The Mandalorian sighed and then turned to you. 

You visibly shrunk under his gaze, and he started to approach you.

Panic took over, and you backed up, wanting to keep distance between you and this monster.

But the Mandalorian caught up to you. He snatched your wrist and pulled you close to him. You were visibly shaking now. He leaned down, to where his helmet was right next to your ear.

"Try anything," He hissed, "And these are going back on."

He released your wrist and undid the cuffs. He clipped them to his belt and stared at you.

You averted your gaze to the ground while you rubbed your freed wrists.

"Understand?" He said, this time with a little less hostility.

"Yes, master." You replied too quickly, not realizing what you had said until it left your mouth and reverberated in your ears.

It was a statement that came so naturally to you. These mannerisms were ingrained in you since you were first made a slave. Yes, master. No, master. Right away, master. As you wish, master. Every sentence that came out of your mouth had to end with a formal address, either Master or Mistress, Sir or Lady depending on the context. You had a break from that during the months at the Niktos' compound mostly because they never said a word to you, or when they did speak, they left before you could respond.

The Mandalorian froze, confused. 

Your breath caught in your throat, you fucked up.

"Don't call me that." He stated plainly.

"Yes, m-" You stopped yourself, "Yes, okay."

It was weird to leave the sentence without a formal address at the end, you would have to get used to that.

"Come on, we're leaving." That was all the Mandalorian said before he turned around.

His gaze landed on the child, who had a frog shoved halfway down his throat.

"Hey! Spit that out." The Mandalorian said. 

But it was too late, the child swallowed it whole, and then burped. He picked up the child and placed it back in its pram. 

You followed the Mandalorian as he walked towards the Ugnaught. He was saddling a blurrg, and attaching it to a hovercart. The Mandalorian gestured for you to get into the cart, so you did, and he set the pram down next to you. The child cooed up at you, and you finally got to interact with him, after about a day of not seeing him, not holding him. You placed him in your lap as the Mandalorian and the Ugnaught loaded the cart with tools and other supplies.

By the time you departed, it was well into the night. The Mandalorian sat on a crate behind you and the child. The Ugnaught, whose name you had figured out was Kuill, was mounted on the blurrg. You rode silently, and eventually, the baby fell asleep. You placed him in his pram and shut the lid. You laid down completely on the cart and curled up, to try and get some sleep, and you eventually fell into a dreamless sleep.

The Mandalorian replayed the day's events in his head. Everything had been fine, up until he returned to the ruins of his ship. He assumed that you had regained your vision, because after you saw him, and realized what he was, everything had gone downhill.

He couldn't shake the image of you holding the gun from his head. Most people were smart enough to know not to raise a gun to a Mandalorian, but you did. He saw the way your hands trembled with the gun. Your cheeks stained with tears, your eyes were wide... and afraid. Yeah, most people were afraid of Mandalorians, but the fear that you had shown was so much different. It ran so much deeper, like she was facing a demon that she thought she had left in her past. You were so small... so afraid. Had it been anyone else, he would have shot them on sight. But he couldn't figure out why he hadn't.

In that moment, with the blaster in your shaking hands, cornered, you were dangerous. He did have armor on, but it didn't cover every inch of skin. You were scared and panicked, and unpredictable. Maybe that was why he didn't immediately shoot you. But even after he disarmed you, and had your small, trembling, form pinned against the wall, he didn't kill you. He looked down at you and saw someone who was so afraid, so weak, he just couldn't do it.

And then your quiet pleas to him, begging him not to hurt you... not to touch you...

That must have been why you were so afraid. You weren't afraid to die, you were afraid to live. Afraid to live and have god knows what done to you. He could tell you had been a slave, with the way you shrunk beneath him, the way you averted your gaze to the floor, demonstrating total submission. He could only imagine what you had been through.

That's why he promised not to hurt her. He couldn't stand the look of fear on your face, it hurt him to see it. But hed to cuff her, he just couldn't take that risk. He tried to be as gentle, and as calm as he could be. Trying not to make any sudden movements. The Mandalorian felt you trembling as he led you to the ladder, he felt you shrink under his touch.

The Mandalorian had the binders set as loose as possible, but tight enough to where you couldn't slip loose. He remembered climbing back down the ladder, and skipping the last couple rungs, and landing in the hull with a thump. He saw you flinch.

And then when he had removed the cuffs at Kuill's demand. When he asked you if you understood, and you had called him master. It was obviously the result of years of conditioning, it was second nature for you to respond like that.

Now he looked at your small form curled up in the cart. You were shivering slightly, having only been in a thin crop top and sweatpants. The temperature was dropping steadily, and he felt a few raindrops hit his helmet. He removed his cape, it was thick and waterproof. He laid it over you and returned to his crate. His underclothes were waterproof and his armor had temperature regulation built into it, so he didn't necessarily need the cape.

He saw your small hand grab onto his cape, and pull it close to herself. He also saw a bruise starting to form on your wrist, no doubt from where he had grabbed you to disarm you. He felt bad, which was strange. He had never felt guilty for doing what he had to do, but just knowing that he had added to the bruises that adorned your body made him upset.

The rain had picked up, which had woken you up. You sat up and pulled the fabric over your head. That's when you noticed the fabric. You stared at it quizzically before turning to the Mandalorian. He nodded, and you turned her attention elsewhere. But the Mandalorian knew you were watching him, keeping him in your peripheral at all times. He doesn't take it personally, because he's doing the exact same thing. Just because he pitied you doesn't mean that he trusted to turn his back from you.

The rain made the trip miserable, but the Mandalorian just sucked it up. The sooner he could get his parts back, the sooner he could leave and be done with the child and the caretaker.

But a small part of him didn't want to... a small part of him didn't want you to suffer anymore. That small part of him wanted you to be free and safe. He ignored this feeling and stared off into the night, keeping you in his field of vision at all times.


	4. Festering Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW!! once again, mentions/allusions to past sexual abuse

The trip was miserable. All you had on, to begin with, was the thin crop top and sweatpants. You had awoken to have something covering you, which you discovered to be the Mandalorian's cape. 

You didn't want to fall asleep, but gods, you were so tired. The day had been an emotional roller coaster. A trauma, that you had thought was left in your past resurfaced in the blink of an eye.

But he had said that he wouldn't hurt you.

But then again, that's exactly what they said, and they lied. And now you were here. 

You remained awake for a while, holding the cape over yourself to remain warm and dry. 

Exhaustion began to get the better of you, though. You leaned against the side of the cart and hoped for more dreamless sleep, but of course, you didn't get any.

Smoke.

Smoke was everywhere.

It filled your nose, it filled your throat, it was everywhere. The pure white snow that covered the ground started to become stained with ash. The air was impossibly hot, and it burned your lungs.

You glanced down, and you were back in your five-year-old body. 

A smoky haze filled all aspects of your vision, and you looked around, panicked. You hoped for something or someone to materialize, something other than more smoke.

You started to walk in a random direction. You saw the burnt ruins of your village. You walked through the town, most of the flames were out, but a few still burned, and the embers of your childhood still hot. Then you began to see the bodies.

They were burnt so badly, almost unrecognizable. 

Almost...

You saw a tuft of unburnt hair on one, your neighbor. A sweet elderly woman...

The bracelet on a mangled wrist, your friend from school...

The bodies littered the ground. You continued through the ghostly streets of your village. 

It was like these small remnants remained unscorched just so that you could know who it was, so you can know who you had lost.

You walked up the road that led to your home. 

It was reduced to rubble. Tears slid down your cheek. You knew this wasn't a dream. This actually happened. This was something you could never forget. You remember your mother shoving you out the back door and telling you to run, to never look back as the flames enveloped the village. 

You did run, you ran for miles into the forest, and remained there through the night. But you did look back, you returned to the village to find your mom, your family.

But all you had found were corpses, the ruins of the life you once knew. You could only find your mother's body. What had happened to your father... to your brothers... you would never know.

You wept over her mutilated body, and you laid a burnt sheet over her, to give her at least some kind of grave. She lied next to one of the wooden pillars of your home, her head being at its base. You took a stone and carved the word 'mom' into the wooden support beam in your native language. That would have to do.

Then you left your village, traveling towards where you thought a nearby village was, and that time, you didn't look back.

The sun was rising. You sat up and looked around.

The Mandalorian was still sitting where he was when you had fallen asleep. He had the pram in front of him, and was feeding the baby a ration pack. 

He must have heard you stir, he turned you and extended a hand with a ration pack. You shrunk back immediately. He sighed and then tossed it to you, which you fumbled to catch.

You ate in silence. You figured that the Mandalorian had eaten while you and the baby were asleep. After finishing your ration, you laid back down. You knew you weren't going to be able to fall asleep, so you just rolled around for a few hours as the sun crept higher and higher into the sky.

You thought abut your 'dream' from earlier. Usually your dreams, or rather nightmares, were perversions of the events that occurred that day. Some nights, it was just your five-year-old self wandering in a smoky haze, and others it was you standing frozen in place as your neighbors burned to death in their houses.

But the dream... the nightmare... had turned into the actual events of that day.

The crawling Jawa fortress came into view. 

"Stay in the cart with the kid." He said, not even turning to face you.

His sudden words caught you off guard, and you flinched.

Kuill yelled out what you assumed was greeting to the Jawas as you neared. They shouted back and a few grabbed blasters.

"They really don't like you for some reason." Kuill said flatly.

"Well I did disintegrate a few of them." The Mandalorian deadpanned. 

Disintegrated, turned to nothing. The Mandalorian had a weapon that could do that? The underlying fear in you stirred again. The next time you try anything, he might just disintegrate you.

"You need to drop your rifle." Kuill warned.

"I'm a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion." The Mandalorian responded said, with a hint of sarcasm. It surprised you, you didn't take him for the type.

Kuill turned to face the Mandalorian, "Then you are not getting your parts back."

The Mandalorian sighed, "Fine." and dropped his rifle at the front of the cart.

The Mandalorian hopped out of the cart, and Kuill dismounted his blurrg.

"And the blaster." Kuill said, gesturing to the Mandalorian's holster.

He put the blaster down, and turned to you.

"Don't try anything stupid." He told you, obviously annoyed, and followed Kuill.

You thought about it, the Mandalorian was kind of unarmed, he had no blaster, but he had his armor, which had an array of weapons built into it. You decided against 'trying anything stupid'.

Suddenly, the kid was at your feet, you didn't even notice him crawl out of his pram. You put him in your lap and sat at the edge of the cart closest to the Mandalorian, Kuill, and the Jawas. 

You watched as they approached.

Kuill spoke in Jawaese to them, and sat down, the Mandalorian followed suit.

They conversed, before the Mandalorian said a few words in Jawaese, and it sounded like the Jawas laughed at him.

"You understand this?" The Mandalorian shouted angrily before he used his vambrace as a flamethrower. 

You could hear the Jawas scream and duck for cover. You were right about the Mandalorian still being armed. You knew first hand how much damage those things could do...

Your thoughts were interrupted as two Jawas approached you, and the one talking to Kuill and the Mandalorian pointed at you and the child.

"Get away from them!" The Mandalorian yelled, and the two Jawas scattered. 

Kuill continued to talk to the Jawas, before they all started chanting something.

Suga? What the fuck was a suga?

They seemed to come to an agreement because the Mandalorian returned and pocketed his weapons. He looked at you for the breifest moment, and you shrunk under his gaze. He turned away and grabbed the reigns to the blurrg towing your hovercart. He lead the blurrg into the hull of the Jawas fortress, and the ramp closed behind you. The hull was huge, but the hallways seemed to be much smaller. You figured that you and Kuill would fit through the hallways pretty easily. You were only three or four inches taller than Kuill to begin with. However, you doubted the Mandalorian could fit.

He tied the blurrg to one of the grates in the floor, and then grabbed you by the arm. You fliched and tried to shrug away from his grip.

"Come on." Was all he said as he helped you out of the cart. 

Then you noticed that his grip was light, gentle even, as he helped you out of the cart. You put the kid in his pram, and you followed Kuill and the Jawas to one of the hallways. The Jawa went first, followed by Kuill, then the child's pram, then you, and finally the Mandalorian. You glanced behind you to see the Mandalorian have to duck pretty far down to fit through. He was comically large for the space, and had it been literally anyone else in the galaxy, you might have even laughed at them. You and Kuill were short to begin with, the two of you only had to lower your head and shoulders to fit.

You arrived at some sort of cockpit, and the fortress roared to life. It started to move as you sat down between Kuill and the baby's pram, with the Mandalorian sitting on the other side of the pram. Even sitting down, the Mandalorian had to duck his head to not hit the ceiling. The Mandalorian sighed as the Jawas continued to chant about this 'suga'. The Jawa piloting the fortress turned to him and said 'suga' again, while making a gesture with its hands. The Mandalorian sighed yet again before the fortress hit a bump and he hit his head on the ceiling. The Jawas laughed.

When you made it to the location of this 'suga', the Mandalorian stood to leave, and you, Kuill, and the baby's pram made to follow.

"What's a 'suga'?" You whispered to Kuill.

"Its an egg, the egg of a mudhorn to be correct." Kuill responded quietly.

You had heard about mudhorns, they're vicious beasts, very territorial. 

You made it to the hull. The Mandalorian descended the ramp... and so did the pram.

Before you realized what came out of your mouth, you yelled after him, "Wait! Why are you taking him? He's a baby!"

The Mandalorian stopped, and turned to face you.

"You are its caretaker. You won't leave without it. It's insurance." He replied before turning back around.

You went to take a step forward to follow him, and Kuill grabbed your arm.

"He will protect it." Kuill said, trying to reassure you.

"Against a mudhorn?" You spat back.

"He is a Mandalorian." Kuill insisted.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of." You said, your gaze locked onto the Mandalorian's shrinking form, the baby's pram following behind.

A while later, you had found yourself sitting in the hovercart, fiddling with the cape the Mandalorian had eft behind. Kuill approached you and offered some water.

"Thank you." You said, accepting the canteen from him. 

He sat down in the cart with you. Stretching his legs out.

"Caretaker, what is your name?" Kuill asks.

He had been nothing but kind to you, so you told him. 

Kuill hummed, repeating your name. "Mine is Kuill." 

"I figured that." You said, trying to sound kind, and not afraid for once.

You offered him a small smile, and he returned one. 

"So what is your story?" Kuill asks, looking out the open ramp, out into the desert where the Mandalorian had disappeared to.

"Well, a few months ago, I was brought out here, the only instructions I was given were to care for the child." You explained.

"And before that?" He inquired.

"I'd rather not get into that." You said, trying not to lose your cool over an innocent question. 

If you had talked about your past, you knew which nightmares would haunt you that coming night.

"You were a slave." Kuill stated.

You scoffed, "And if I was?"

"You are free now." Kuill continued. "You haven't anything to worry about. Mandalorians are a people of their word, they are honorable. And I assume the Mandalorian has promised that he would not harm you. That is a promise he will keep."

You scoffed again, "Yeah I've heard that one before," you paused to take a drink out of the canteen, "long story short, it was a lie."

Kuill remained quiet after that, as you waited for the return of the Mandalorian.

You waited for what seemed like hours, and you were growing increasingly worried about the child. The Jawas had decided that they had waited long enough, so the ushered you, Kuill, the blurrg and your hovercart out of the hull.

Kuill seemed to be pleading with them to stay a while longer, but they began to head up the ramp. Kuill called after them again, and then sighed. As the Jawas began to lift the ramp, that's when you saw it, the reflection of abeskar helmet. You looked beside it and saw the pram. You let out a breath that you didn't even know you were holding.

"Mando!" Kuill called out, waving to him.

"I have it." The Mandalorian said, "I've got the egg."

The Jawas lowered the ramp and rushed to greet him. You stayed back as the crowd of Jawas swarmed around him. They took the egg, and then one of the Jawas used a blade to cut the top off. They stuck their hands in, scooping out the yellow-orange goop and eating it. The Mandalorian was covered in mud, and his armor appeared to have taken quite the beating. You didn't really care, though. 

Once the crowd cleared, you approached the pram. The baby was in there, but he was unconscious. You saw his chest rise and fall, but even when you tried to wake him, he didn't stir.

Your worry turned into pure rage as you spun to face the filthy Mandalorian. He was facing you. 

"What did you do to him?" Your words were dripping with anger, but you were met with silence.

You took a bold step forward and and shoved him hard in his chestplate. He grunted.

"What did you do to him you bastard?" You screamed at him.

Then you noticed that he was holding his chest where you had shoved him, and he was breathing heavily.

He must have been more injured than any of you thought. You turned your attention back to the baby, hoping that he would wake up.

Kuill, the Mandalorian, and the Jawas all worked to load your cart with the parts for the ship while you watched over the child.

When the cart was packed, there was no room for you to lay. Hell, there was barely any room for the Mandalorian to sit. You mounted the blurrg, and sat behind Kuill, your hands on his shoulders. Then you started the journey back to the ship.

Kuill and the Mandalorian promptly got to work when they arrived. You laid out the Mandalorian's cape on the ground while the two men worked on repairing the stripped ship. You had the baby's pram next to you, he still hadn't woken up. You had heard the Mandalorian explain what had happened while he fought the mudhorn. Kuill and him seemed to be confused by this, but for you it just made sense. If the child was able to lift an entire fucking mudhorn, that would explain how it was always getting into things that were way out of his reach. You had always known the kid was special, but damn, not this special. 

They worked into the night, and when morning broke, the ship was ready to go. The Mandalorian lead you up into the cockpit, and seated you in one of the chairs behind the pilot's seat. The child's pram was beside, he had sill woken up. You heard The Mandalorian speaking to Kuill down in the hull, part of you wanted to say goodbye to the Ugnaught, but the other part of you wanted to stay away from the Mandalorian. Eventually, you heard the Mandalorian climb up the ladder. He walked past you to the pilot's seat.

He fired the engines. You looked out of the cockpit window to see Kuill mounted on his blurrg, he held up a hand a waved.

You saw the Mandalorian nod at him, before taking the controls and lifting off the ground. You saw the sandy surface of Arvala-7 disappear from view as the ship exited the atmosphere. And for the first time since you met the Mandalorian, you wondered what was in store for you.

He set the hyperdrive, and then you were in hyperspace. The cockpit was tinted a light blue, and it reflected off of the Mandalorian's helmet.

You found your words after a few minutes of silence.

"What now?" You asked

"We go to Nevarro." Was all he said.

There were a few more minutes of silence before you spoke again.

"Why?" You asked, simply.

The Mandalorian just turned his head slightly to look at you. You shrunk back into your seat under his gaze. You took his stare as him asking you to elaborate.

"Why did you come to the compound? Why did you take us?" 

"He," the Mandalorian said, pointing at the child's pram, "is a bounty."

"And you are the hunter." You said.

He said nothing in response.

"Then why did you take me? What is even going to happen to me when we get to Nevarro?" You questioned.

"The child wouldn't stop screaming until he saw you were coming," he paused to flip a few switches on the control panel, "And as for you, you're going where the bounty goes."

"Why? I don't have a bounty on my head." You quipped.

"So you would rather have had me leave you behind on Arvala-7?" The Mandalorian mocked.

"Well, Kuill has been much more hospitable than you." You spat back.

"But you didn't point a blaster at Kuill and threaten to kill him, did you?" He was obviously getting annoyed at this point.

"I had my reasons." You said, even you couldn't ignore the hate in your voice.

"Oh, do tell." The Mandalorian said, mocking once again.

At this point, the amount of anger within you surpassed the amount of fear.

"I don't owe you anything, especially an explanation." You hissed as you stood up and took a step towards his seat.

The Mandalorian, having noticed your approach quickly stood and spun to face you. 

He was close. Too close. 

The anger that had just fueled your actions turned to pure fear as he loomed over you.

You shrunk as the only thing you could do was stare up at his emotionless helmet.

"Sit down, girl." He hissed.

You did as you were told and returned to your seat.

The Mandalorian returned to his own seat and sat down, letting out a very audible grunt.

"You're hurt." You said, before you could think.

"Why do you care?" He grunted back.

"You're no good to me dead." You spit back, making sure he didn't take your worry to be you caring, "I don't know how to fly a ship."

The Mandalorian was obviously done talking. He stood again, with another grunt, and took out the cuffs. Once again you shrunk into your seat, trying to make yourself as small as possible. He loosely cuffed one of your wrists to the arm of your seat. He stood before you. He was between your legs, his arms braced on either side of your chair. You had been in this position too many times to count.

He seemed to notice how uncomfortable you were, for he backed up and said, "Don't touch anything", before leaving the cockpit.

He was gone for a while. You watched the baby, and eventually he opened his eyes. He was obviously out of it so you called out.

"Um... Mandalorian? The child is awake. Can you bring some food and water for him?" 

You heard rustling in the hull and then footsteps climbing the ladder. You turned and saw the Mandalorian emerge. He had two ration packs and a canteen of water in his hands. Thats when you noticed the the only armor he had on was his helmet. Strange.

But it reminded you that there was a human underneath that armor. You saw that he was just as tall and just as broad without the armor. He wore a black, longsleeve shirt and black cargo pants. You could see the skin of his neck between the collar of his shirt and his helmet. It was tanned, maybe olive.

He wordlessly handed you the items before returning to the hull. You did the best you could to feed the child with one hand, your other one still having been cuffed to the seat. You managed to unscrew the cap to the canteed and lifter it to the child's mouth. He was thirsty, you had to cut him off before he could drink too much and get an upset stomach.

You got the cap back on and lifted the child into your lap. He was full of energy, but you were absolutely drained. You weren't able to sleep the previous night due to the loud power tools that Kuill had brought from his home, and they worked through the night.

You didn't hear the Mandalorian for a while. You settled into the chair and tried to get at lease some sleep now.

The Mandalorian climbed the ladder to the cockpit, the first thing he noticed was that you didn't move. Whenever he came near to you, he noticed that you would shrink, or try to make yourself small. You must have fallen asleep. He came around your chair, and his suspicions were confirmed. You head was lolled to the side and were slightly slouched. The child was sound asleep on your lap. He lifter the child into the pram and closed the lid. He leaned down and undid the cuffs.

He knew that he had been aggressive towards you earlier, and once again that foreign feeling of remorse crept into him. He didn't mean to be so standoffish, so mocking and all around rude to you. He had been so tired, and gods everything hurt. That mudhorn put him through quite a beating. And on top of that his armor was totaled. He was in a bad mood when he walked on the ship and he had taken it out on you.

He also didn't understand the hate you had for him. Yeah, he understood the fear, but the hate made no sense. He had tried to be as kind to you as his profession would allow, but when your vision had cleared and you saw who he was, you changed. You had said that you had your reasons for what you did, but that was all you would say on the topic.

He decided to move you to the hull so he could have some space, and so that you could sleep more comfortably. He bent down and tested the waters by wrapping his arms around your waist. You didn't stir, you must be out cold. He had figured you hadn't slept well, if at all, last night. He lifts you over his shoulder and descends the ladder. He opens the compartment to his cot, and he bends down to seat you on the edge, still holding you upright. He had his arms wrapped around you and your head was leaning on his shoulder.

With his arms around you, he noticed again how skinny you were. He wished he had given you more rations than he did. He leaned forward and laid you down on the cot. It was awkward to say the least. The way the cot was built into the ship made it so you actually had to climb through it. His arms were around your waist, he was standing between your legs. He really hoped that you would not wake up. He saw how you got so scared with him between your legs earlier, even if that wasn't his intention, he had only stood there to reach and cuff her arm to the chair, not realizing how uncomfortable it made you.

He let go of you and you laid a blanket over her. The hull could get cold sometimes. He retreated back to the cockpit.

Was he going soft? What was he doing? Most of his quarries would have been frozen in carbonite by now, especially ones with your attitude. Especially ones who had pulled a weapon on him. He shook his head, thinking that if he did that, his racing mind would shaken from the thoughts that plagued it. He would arrive at Nevarro in a few hours. He would hand off the child and its caretaker and be done with it. Be done with you.

The child had grown on him though. He was so innocent, too pure for the dirty hands of the Empire.

He shook those thoughts from his head as well. He needed the beskar. His armor had lost its integrity during the mudhorn fight, and he couldn't risk going on more jobs with compromised armor. His mind was made up then. He was giving the child and you off to the Empire as soon as he reached Nevarro.

You woke up ina cot of some kind. It was build into a wall. You climbed out and looked around the hull. You saw the Mandalorian adjusting his vambrace. You stood still at the foot of your cot. You could have sworn you fell asleep in the cockpit.

"Good. You're awake. Let's get going." The Mandalorian said as he lowered the ramp. The child was already up. He peered up at you from his pram.

That's when the gravity of the situation hit you. You were on Nevarro, about to be given to some mysterious client right alongside the child. Now was not the time to be afraid. You had to be brave, for your own sake and the child's. 

"So who are you off to sell me to?" You asked pointedly.

"A client." He said flatly.

"You don't have to do this." You said.

"Yes, I do." He simply said. 

He pulled the cuffs our and loosely binded your hands in front of you. He wrapped a hand around your upper arm and led you off of the ship. The air was dusty and ashy. It was similar to Arvala-7 yet so different at the same time. He led you into town by the arm. The streetwas bustling and crowded. You made your way out of the crowd and towards some side streets.

"Please, Mandalorian. I know you are an honorable man." You said, not believing a word that just came out of your own mouth.

No matter how hard you tried, the fear that you had so pointedly stuffed down began to resurface. Fear of the unknown.

After turning down multiple alleyways, the Mandalorian stopped your little group at a nondescript door. 

This was it. The end. 

A eyeball, security camera thing popped out of the wall and scanned the Mandalorian's key card. The door opened and- oh no.

No, no, no.

They're supposed to be gone. Right. The Empire is supposed to be gone, right?

Apparently not, because two storm troopers were on the other side of the door.

You had been in Imperial custody before, you had been a laborer, a slave. And the stormtroopers were cruel, especially towards the female slaves. They would do unspeakable things when the sun would set. Things that came rushing back to your mind. You froze, you stopped breathing. The Mandalorian began to move forward and tried to bring you with him, but your feet were cemented in place. One trooper gave you a hard shove and you were through the threshold of the door. You heard it shut behind you. Everything became muffled around you, you felt and heard your blood rushing in your ears. You became lightheaded, and stumbled along wherever the Mandalorian was leading you. You recognized that you were starting to have a panic attack. Your breathing became heavy and frantic. The Mandalorian must have noticed because he turned his helmet towards you.

After walking down the hallway you were brought into an open room, where an older man sat at a table, he had a large medalion hanging around his neck, the symbol of the Empire engraved on it.

Your ears began to ring now, and you glanced around the room frantically, looking for a way out. you almost didn't notice a man approach you. He was tall and skinny, and had large, round glasses on. He ran a scan on the child's forehead, and then turned to you to do the same. He turned around and you presumed that he said something to the client. Then more stormtroopers appeared, they grabbed your arms and lead you away from the Mandalorian, towards a door. In that moment, the Mandalorian, who was no doubt the person who you hated the most in this galaxy, was your only hope. You began to struggle against the cuffs and the troopers, the shock weared off, and sound slammed back into your ears.

"Don't do this! Please! Don't make me go back there!" You screamed, resisting the two troopers who had a firm grasp on you. 

Your eyes landed on the container in the Mandalorian's hand. He had already made the trade, it was too late.

Your pleas turned into hate quicker than humanly possible.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU FUCKING COWARD!" You screamed. Fighting the troopers with everything you had, which wasn't much. 

They were still trying to pull you the rest of the way towards the doorway. 

"You know who these monsters are! You know what they do!" You yelled, tears filled your eyes as one trooper punched you hard in the gut. 

You still had more fight left in you though.

"Whatever happens to me is on you, motherfucker! You have no honor, you are no better than these animals!" Your voice was going hoarse, and you were almost through the threshold of the door.

You looked up at the Mandalorian as a trooper put his arm around your neck, "I HOPE YOU BURN YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

There was another punch to your gut. You were through the door now.

"I HOPE YOU FUCKING BURN!" You screamed as the door hissed shut. 

You continued to scream until one of the troopers punched your face, hard. You had let out all of your anger in that moment, all of the hate you harbored for the Mandalorian, the hate which had festered for thirty years was expelled in an instant, when your enemy, your last glimpse of hope, turned his back on you. What did you expect to happen. Did you expect him to "redeem" himself? For all you knew, he wasn't even alive when your hate for the Mandalorians had formed. But now, you felt empty.

And after that, you felt nothing.


End file.
